The Stone

by John Uilkema

Perhaps you have seen that standing pillar?
The obelisk was carved with a thousand scars, 
fortified against the wind and the rain.
Foliage around the ancient grove 
sucks dry the blood of those who stay, unwary 
of the danger this eldritch garden holds.
Aside the stone, upon the bed of moss, 
an archaic chisel calmly waits. Sharper 
than any user's wit, the etching knife 
will find a pristine owner in which
to reveal the truth of its grand design.
Prowess: for those who seek the blade. 
Young one, grab hold the ancient carving blade,
find a blank spot, and etch old scars fresh again.